


Predator

by fredbassett



Series: Stephen/Ryan series [1]
Category: Primeval
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-16
Updated: 2012-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-29 16:07:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredbassett/pseuds/fredbassett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chasing someting with big teeth in the raid</p>
            </blockquote>





	Predator

It had been a bad day.

Sabre-toothed cats were difficult at the best of times and hunting one through the depths of a rain soaked woodland wasn’t anyone’s idea of a fun time in the countryside.

Finding the remains of the missing child hadn’t improved matters. That had rattled even Ryan’s famed imperturbability.

The Special Forces medic pronounced her dead, a grim look on the man’s normally cheerful face.

Ryan flipped open his phone and called Lester. “Dead,” was all he said, with no preamble. Followed a minute later by, “Still looking.” He closed the phone and shoved it back into a pocket. Looking at Stephen, he asked, “Will it come back to feed again?”

Stephen shrugged. “I doubt it. Not immediately, anyway, and not with our smell plastered everywhere around here.”

Ryan glanced at one of his men, “Stay here. If you see it, shoot it.” The captain’s grey eyes stared challengingly at Stephen.

The younger man said nothing. The cat was only obeying its own nature, but with the mauled body of a kid under ten lying in the ungainly sprawl of death on the blood soaked forest floor, it didn’t seem like a good time to pick a fight with Ryan. Stephen’s own rifle was loaded with tranquilizer darts but he was under no illusion that Ryan, or any of the other Special Forces guys, would just stand back and let him fire first.

“Can you track it?”

“All we have to do is follow the blood trail from the arm it’s taken,” said Stephen, forcing the sickness back down his throat. “How hard is that?”

Without waiting for an answer, he set off, moving quickly and smoothly through the underbrush. He was concentrating on the trail not on keeping watch for the cat itself, it was Ryan’s job to do that, and to protect his back, and the captain was good at his job, there was no doubt about that.

There weren’t many people Stephen Hart would trust his life to. Cutter was one, and now Ryan came into that category as well. Funny really, although they’d spent long days chasing various creatures around the countryside, and even a few towns for that matter, they’d barely had more than five minutes of conversation that wasn’t job related. He didn’t even know Ryan’s first name, but he trusted the man to watch his back when there was something large and deadly around. Or even something small and deadly.

The trail led in an almost straight line through the trees. Stephen stopped and checked the OS map in his pocket. They were heading for the line of a cliff, maybe thirty metres high. The cat didn’t appear to have stopped, nor had they found the arm. Stephen was starting to get an idea of what they were looking for. He looked again at the map and nodded, more to himself than anyone else.

Ryan watched him closely. For a civilian, Hart was good. He could handle himself in a fight and he knew guns, treating them like the tools that they were, not like something that boosted an ego, or made up for other deficiencies. Ryan had no objection to covering Hart’s back in the field. He’d had worse assignments, that was for sure. But he didn’t like things that killed and ate kids, not even if they were furry. If he had his way, this one was going to end up as a rug.

Stephen ran a hand through his short black hair, the rain causing it to stick up in spikes. His light jacket had long since been soaked through, but he’d been too intent on the hunt to feel any discomfort. He stowed the map back in a pocket and moved off again, as lithe and silent as the killer he was tracking. Ryan watched approvingly for a moment and then followed, equally as silently. Four of his men flanked them on either side, rifles held ready, safety catches off, eyes quick and watchful.

In less than five minutes, they reached the cliff and Stephen quickly found what he’d been expecting. A low entrance set in the base of the grey limestone, no more than a metre and a half high, but more than adequate for the lair of a big cat.

“We go in after it? asked Ryan, a look of distaste on his face. Chasing something with teeth as big as the sabre tooth’s into a hole in the ground was not his idea of fun.

“Not you, me.”

Ryan shook his head, “No way. You’ve done your job. We take over from here.”

Blue eyes stared hard into grey. “We’ve been chasing a female, Ryan. She killed the child and took the arm to feed her own cubs. I don’t like it any more than you do, but she’s an animal, you can’t blame the cat for following her instincts. She found a meal and she took it. What do you expect her to do, phone for a pizza?”

Ryan’s eyes narrowed and just for an instant, Stephen thought the captain was going to hit him. The moment passed and anger faded from the grey eyes. Stephen found he could breathe again.

The Special Forces leader turned to his men, the icy mask of detachment firmly back in place. “Spread out, cover the entrance. If the cat gets past Dr. Hart, kill it.”

Stephen gave him a small nod of thanks. He hadn’t meant to sound like an insensitive bastard but if he thought too much about the small, mangled body, he was going to throw up and to cover that he’d taken refuge in sarcasm.

He’d apologise later. If he got the chance, that is. Approaching a female with cubs wasn’t necessarily one of his brighter ideas, but the cat didn’t deserve to die for feeding its own young and if he could knock the creature out so they could get it and the cubs, back through the anomaly, it would be worth the risk.

He gave his rifle one last check and then took off his wet jacket and hung it from a branch. He didn’t want encumbering with anything that might impede his movement. He also turned his phone off. Ryan watched approvingly. The black tee shirt the younger man wore clung wetly to a smoothly muscled chest and rain glistened on tanned arms.

“Watch yourself, Hart. Don’t take any risks.”

Stephen laughed, “We’ve been taking risks since the first creature came through an anomaly. I doubt this’ll be the last one I take.”

A slight smile curved Ryan’s lips, “Maybe, maybe not. But there always is a last time, so make sure this isn’t yours.”

The blue eyes were calm now and the look Hart gave the other man was steady, without challenge but also without over-confidence. If anyone could knock the damned cat out without killing it, Hart would be the one to manage it, Ryan was sure of that, but he still didn’t know why the guy bothered. A 7.62 mm bullet would do the job just as well.

Stephen crossed the killing ground between the wood and the cliff, staying to one side of the cave entrance and staying down wind. As he got closer, he smelt the musky odour of big cat and wondered how long the sabre tooth had been here. There was no history of big cat sightings in the forest, so maybe not long. The anomaly they had found was a gateway to the right period, that was for sure, but what they didn’t know yet was whether the time gates ever appeared in the same place, leading to the same time more than once.

He pushed thoughts of the anomalies away and concentrated on the task in hand. Ryan was right, there was always a last time, and he didn’t want this to be his. Knowing a that a pair of steady grey eyes watched him through a sniper scope was strangely comforting.

Getting to within two metres of the entrance was the easy part. The next bit would be trickier. Hugging the edge of the cliff, Stephen moved forward carefully until he was almost at the mouth of the cave. The animal smell was stronger now, and he could hear small noises inside, chewing and tearing. The cubs were feeding. His stomach turned violently and before he could stop himself, sour vomit rose in his throat and he retched, trying and failing to stop himself being sick.

The noise was enough to alert the female sabre-tooth to the fact that something was way too close to her lair for comfort. The huge cat, almost two and a half metres long from its blood stained muzzle to the tufted tip of its tail, exploded out of the cave mouth, the smell of vomit more than enough for it to locate the threat.

Reflexes took over. Stephen threw himself to his left, away from the cliff, bringing up the rifle and firing in one smooth movement. The dart took the cat in the shoulder. Stephen hit the ground and rolled, coming up on one knee and aiming again. The cat circled, wary now, golden eyes meeting blue. Ryan’s parting words rang in his head and Stephen fired again. The cat leaped backwards, growling deep in its throat, fangs bared. The drug should be working by now.

Stephen dragged the bolt back on the rifle, reaching into the pouch on his belt for another dart. He was fast, but the cat was faster, and it gathered itself to spring. Time slowed. Stephen could see every muscle in the creatures body tense, he carried on loading the rifle, fingers suddenly slick with sweat, his heart hammering with the rush of adrenaline. It was taking too long, damn it. Why wasn’t the fucking drug working?

The crack of a rifle shot broke the silence. Stephen expected to see a sudden flowering of red blood on the animal’s tawny hide. He closed his eyes for an instant, not wanting to see the animal die. It hadn’t been its fault. It was out of its own time, in a world where even its prey was unfamiliar.

A moment later another shot rang out. Stephen’s eyes widened in surprise. The sabre-tooth was still alive, sinking slowly to the ground, but it was unmarked, and apart from the two feathered darts hanging from its skin, unharmed. Ryan had not fired to kill, he had fired at the ground between Stephen and the big cat, causing it to jump backwards in surprise and allowing just enough time for the tranquillizer to take effect. Stephen made a mental note to up the dosage if they ever went hunting like this again.

As soon as he was sure the cat was out for the count, he retrieved the darts and checked the animal’s heartbeat. It was strong and steady. One of Ryan’s guys ran up carrying a light weight collapsible stretcher and with Stephen’s help he rolled the unconscious big cat onto it and then started to strap the animal firmly down.

The Special Forces soldier looked up as Ryan approached, “Sir?”

Ryan jerked his head towards the woods, “Get it to the anomaly site and wait for us there.”

Stephen looked up. “Thanks.”

Ryan grinned. “Don’t thank me yet. You still need to go in after the cubs.”

Another of Ryan’s guys walked over, carrying a lightweight net that was no doubt a lot stronger than it looked. “Will this help, Dr.?”

“Probably, but they’ll still have claws like needles and teeth that’ll bite to the bone. Let me get my jacket.”

Ryan shook his head. “Leave it, Hart, I was joking. This lot are dressed for the next bit, you aren’t. Go on, lads, and remember, they’ll be more scared of you than you are of them.”

The sceptical expression on the faces of the two soldiers just about said it all, but they knew better than to argue with their hard eyed captain, even if he was smiling.

It took ten minutes and a lot of snarling and spitting, but eventually, two sabre-toothed cubs, the size of spaniels, were cornered and secured. Carrying each one somewhat gingerly, the two soldiers set off for the anomaly, leaving Stephen to make a last check of the cave to make sure nothing had been missed.

Ryan waited at the entrance and although he’d clicked the safety catch of his rifle on, that didn’t mean he had wholly discounted the prospect that the female might have a mate in the vicinity.

“Clear,” said Stephen, when he emerged a couple of minutes later. Apart from the child’s arm, but that wasn’t something he really wanted to talk about right now. Some of the sights he’d seen today would be lodged in his memory for quite a while, that was for sure.

Feeling suddenly tired, the adrenaline rush subsiding now, he leant back against the rain washed cliff and closed his eyes.

“What made you throw up?” asked a quiet voice, from surprisingly close to him.

Stephen was silent for a long moment before he answered, “I heard them chewing.” He kept his eyes closed, trying, and failing, to banish the memory.

A minute later, he felt his head tilted back and a warm mouth closed on his. With a total disregard for the fact that the man he was kissing had been violently sick no more than ten minutes ago, Ryan proceeded to explore Stephen’s mouth expertly with his tongue, giving no sign of distaste. After a minute, Stephen stopped worrying and kissed him back, hard.

Ryan pressed his body against Stephen’s and the younger man felt Ryan’s belt and his pocketed jacket dig uncomfortably into his flesh, but the pressure on his erection from Ryan’s own body drove anything else from his mind and he moved his hips trying to increase the friction. Trying to drive the memories away. His jeans were wet and tight and there was very little room for manoeuvre between them, but somehow Ryan managed to work the zip down with one hand and wrap his fingers round Stephen’s cock. The younger man groaned into the captain’s mouth. The adrenaline rush had left his nerves strung too tight for comfort. He needed release badly and in five quick, hard, strokes, the captain made sure he got it

When Ryan drew back, Stephen opened his eyes and saw surprise on the other man’s face. “When did you pop that mint?” Ryan asked, a grin starting to form.

“In the cave. Do you want one?” Stephen’s eyes betrayed his own amusement. Ryan hadn’t expected that, which meant that the man had an even stronger stomach than Stephen had given him credit for. He wouldn’t have kissed someone who’d recently thrown up, that was for sure.

Then the memory of Ryan’s distaste when he’d pretended to taste the pteranodon’s dung came back to mind and he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

The Special Forces leader grinned and leaned in for another kiss, teeth grazing Stephen’s lips as he breathed, “You weren’t wearing a wet tee shirt then, Hart.”


End file.
